


At the Environmental Lobby Fundraiser

by autumnalequinox



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnalequinox/pseuds/autumnalequinox
Summary: Donna takes the Capital Scoop job, but this story could take place any time. I wanted to practice angry banter.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	At the Environmental Lobby Fundraiser

**Author's Note:**

> Donna takes the Capital Scoop job, but this story could take place any time. I wanted to practice angry banter.

Donna’s office was impressive for an internet start-up and, if she did say so herself, nicer than Josh’s. It featured huge rectangular windows that allowed in the perfect amount of light for her plants and allowed her to gaze over the park a few stories below. She had come on a Saturday to hang a couple of modern, brightly-colored prints that popped against the white walls and sleek gray furniture. The office wasn’t within 100 feet of the oval, but it was a place that reminded visitors they were in the presence of a _professional_ , not in the basement of the academic fraternity house on a college campus.

Donna had two personal pictures on display in the office. One was on her desk. It was an old picture of her family, the last one they had made before her oldest brother had moved out to go to school. Her siblings, all brunette, and her parents beamed at the camera, but 12-year-old Donna, ashamed of her braces, kept her lips tightly sealed.

The other frame was propped up on the bookshelf behind her desk, facing the room. It was taken on President Bartlet’s first election night, late, in a crowded Manchester bar. The flash hit the subjects of the photo like a spotlight, obscuring everything behind them. Margaret was on the far right, but her gaze was beyond the camera, calling to someone behind the photographer. Beside her was Sam, who didn’t look wasted, smiling in the right direction. He had his arms around Josh’s shoulders, and Josh had _his_ arm around Donna’s waist. She and Josh were looking at each other: she was laughing, and he was grinning.

The night that photo was taken, Donna felt like her whole life was about to unfold before her magnificently. They were drunk on tequila and winning, she was going to work _at the White House_ , and yes, Josh Lyman kept looking at her like she was his muse.

She kept the photo up to remind her appointments that she knew Important People and to remind herself that she hadn’t made any of it up.

Her office phone rang. She had been issues director at Capital Scoop for about three months, but only in the last week or so did it feel normal to answer the phone and say:

“Donna Moss’ office.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still at work, babe! I’m supposed to pick you up in an hour!”

“I think I don’t have to tell you, it’s pretty obvious that I am still at work,” she said.

“Okay, okay, but will you be ready on time? I really don’t want to be late.”

“I will absolutely be ready on time. And it’s a gala, not a job interview. Casually late is fine, Sean.”

“Not when you’re on the verge of expanding your Senate portfolio and need all the face time you can get with your boss,” he pushed back. She rolled her eyes.

“See you in an hour,” she said. She hung up, pressed send, and started gathering her bag, jacket, and keys.

On her way out, she glanced over at the election night photo. She doubted Josh would look at her the same way tonight, the first time he would see her since she left the West Wing.

She had been dating Sean for about three weeks. They hadn’t had any kind of official talk, but she hadn’t failed to notice he called her “babe” and was comfortable bickering with her about being late to a party. He was cruising toward boyfriend territory.

Sean was an environmental lobbyist, but he cut his hair regularly. He worked in politics, but no one at Scoop was covering the people who cared about issues. He was decent in bed and didn’t even know who Josh Lyman was when they first met.

Tonight, they were going to a fundraiser for Democratic Congressional candidates who had pledged to champion environmental legislation.

“You look great, Donna,” he said as she locked her apartment door behind her. She was wearing a blue cocktail dress she had worn to the Correspondents’ Dinner with Josh a year or so ago.

The gala was held in the ballroom of a hotel about a mile away, and as they sat in the cab, Sean gave her a refresher on who she would be meeting tonight. Normally, she’d be clinging to his every word, hoping to impress his coworkers, but tonight she was distracted. She’d never been to an event like this without Josh. This kind of thing was his territory. Tonight, he would see her there on someone else’s arm.

_He’s not your ex-boyfriend, he’s your former boss_ , she thought, and willed herself to tune back in to her perfectly kind, well-rested, stable almost-boyfriend who never raised his voice or bragged about going to Yale, even though he did.

The ballroom was decorated beautifully, but Donna didn’t have much time to take it in. Sean grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and nudged her toward a group of people who were familiar, probably from meetings in the White House. Sean placed his hand on her lower back as she tried to listen intently to gossip about people she didn’t know.

She swore she felt Josh before she saw him, like a laser beam pressing into her back, but it could have been the two glasses of champagne on an empty stomach. Or just hope. While one of the candidates spoke to the darkened room, she twisted around in her seat. Sean didn’t notice; he was enraptured by the speaker’s plan for stricter carbon taxation. Sure enough, two tables behind her sat Josh. On one side of him was a woman she’d never seen before, and on the other side she could see Larry’s profile.

Josh looked right at her.

She looked right back, daring him.

He smirked, stood up, and started walking away from his table, toward the bar.

“Be right back,” she whispered into Sean’s ear. He glanced over and nodded vaguely. Donna followed Josh. Like always, his smile compelled her to do stupid things.

There were enough people mingling around the bar to create a hum that drowned out the candidate on stage.

“Well, well, well, look what the tree hugger dragged in,” Josh said from his throne atop a barstool. He passed her a glass of wine almost reflexively.

She took a big swig, slapped her clutch on the bar, and then said, “You should try hugging a tree sometime. It’s very grounding, a sensation with which I doubt you’re familiar.”

“Ah, Donna, not a day goes by where I don’t miss you bringing me down a notch.”

His tie was crooked, and his shirt was a bit wrinkled. He probably came here straight from the office, which meant he didn’t care about the woman sitting beside him enough to change clothes.

“I miss you too, Josh,” Donna replied, without a hint of sarcasm.

“Walk with me,” he whispered, jerking his head toward nearby double doors that led to a grassy courtyard. She glanced back toward her table, but she couldn’t even tell Sean’s head apart from the others anymore.

The October air was a little chilly, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She followed him around the edge of the courtyard. The swinging door behind them closed with a thud, and she became aware that they weren’t just seeing each other for the first time in months, they were alone.

Josh lightly grabbed Donna’s elbow, and her spine snapped to attention.

“Why isn’t your office returning my calls?” he asked. She had told her assistant to make up an excuse any time he called. She was trying to cultivate distance, and she couldn’t do that with him clogging her office line.

“Because you’re perfectly capable of locating the Connolly file yourself or asking Tommy to find it,” she said, referring to her replacement, who she had helped hire.

“Hey! It’s not about that! I’ve been calling because I have comments on the coverage of our office, and every time your staff assistant tells me that you’re in a meeting, which I know isn’t always true.”

“That _is_ true, I’m very busy, and we get plenty of calls from C.J.’s office with comments. Did you transfer to her staff?” she asked pointedly.

He set his mouth into a firm line.

“Okay, so not every call has been about that. But I need to talk to you!”

“You’re talking to me now.”

“You didn’t even return from your house phone. What, are you too busy volunteering for Greenpeace at night to call back?”

“Hugging trees, volunteering…it sounds like my life is finally peaceful. So why are you so dead-set on stirring it up again? It must not be _that_ important. You know where I live, you can pay me a visit.”

The chill in the air was worse now, and goose bumps prickled on her upper arms. Automatically, she stepped closer to him.

“It is important,” he continued. “See, this whole me-in-the-White-House-and-you-not-in-the-White-House thing isn’t working for me anymore, and I wanted to make you a job offer.”

She stopped walking and let out a loud "HA."

“I can’t believe you, Josh. You actually cannot handle the fact that I’m successful without you. You can’t stand that you don’t have someone blowing sunshine up your ass all day, which I didn’t want to do anymore!” _And didn’t want anyone else to do either, which is why I made you hire Tommy._

They had made their way across the courtyard in front of a bench. Josh sighed as he sat down. He leaned back and looked up at her. She was fuming. Almost.

“That’s not true. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Arms crossed, Donna looked around. She should go back inside and find Sean now. But her feet had other plans and stayed planted in the grass. They betrayed her with the truth: she loved Josh, still, and probably always, even if it was incredibly unhealthy.

“Do you remember election night?” he said suddenly.

“I probably remember it better than you do,” she said. “You were shitfaced.”

“How serious is it, with Sean Stewart?” he said, jumping up from the bench and continuing to talk about whatever he wanted to talk about, as usual. Of course Josh knew Sean’s full name. He had probably run a background check on the guy. Which was wildly inappropriate.

And wildly telling.

“Serious enough for you to pull his FBI file, apparently,” Donna said.

“Donna, you don’t get it – “

“So tell me. Get me to get it. Why did you drag me out here? Why can’t you let me live my life?”

“Because I need you in mine!”

“Josh, I cannot be your assistant anymore. How can I make this clearer for you? There was nowhere for me to go in the office!”

“Not as my assistant! I don’t need you for appointments. I need you. _You._ Your ideas, I don’t know, your bambi eyes, your way of getting me and my way of getting you. Donna, the reason I didn’t blow an absolute gasket when you left is because I thought it meant we would go out together. Then the day I finally worked up the nerve to _do_ something about it, I find out you’ve gone vegan with the environmental lobby, and you stop taking my calls, and now you’re doing great without me, and-”

“It’s not serious. With Sean,” she said, cutting him off. “And I left because I couldn’t be around you and not be with you anymore. Everyone was right about me, Josh. I wasn’t there for the job. I was there for you. And it wasn’t fair anymore.”

Applause from the ballroom rumbled, and the lights brightened, but neither of them cared who saw. He pulled her close at her waist, slid his hand behind her neck, and kissed her.

A dam within her broke, and the kiss she gave back to him was powered by years of longing. Her arms wrapped around his back, her hand tugged at his hair, and she pressed her hips into him. When they finally pulled apart, her whole body was alight, and he was looking at her with the same expression he had in the picture on her office bookshelf.

“You know,” she said. “On my third day at Scoop, I mentioned to someone that I worked in the DCOS office in the West Wing, and she said, ‘I heard Josh Lyman fucks his assistants.’”

“What did you say?” he said with a punch-drunk grin.

“I said you only fucked former assistants.” He laughed and kissed her again. “Are you going to be home after this, or back at the office?” she asked.

“I’ll be wherever you want me to be,” he said.

“Be home. I’ll let myself in,” she said, and with every ounce of willpower she had, she walked back inside to break up with Sean so that she could be with utterly ridiculous, always exhausted, rarely stable, almost-perfect Josh.


End file.
